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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2194981-Sleepy-Time
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2194981
Of dreams and their makers. ~704 Words.
There comes a time when all of you succumb to the dark, raging seas of sleep, your bodies and minds recharge as you float upon its dreamy waves to nonsensical destinations which inspire and invigorate you. During these mystical dreamscapes, you feel at ease, and whilst nightmares may appear every now and again, they leave just as fast. Though even after these scary unconscious hallucinations, you still awaken somewhat enlightened; content that the dream is over, and you are awake.

Have you ever wondered why, and how you dream? This question has boggled humanity's greatest minds for millennia although I know the truth of the matter, and it's something that you all need to fear. Humans aren't the masters of this universe, there exists a great council of irksome beings who reign over all living things, and guide your destinies subliminally as you sleep.

Over countless eons they've ruled unnoticed from beyond reality's edge. They reap our memories, and forge our reactions to any and all stimuli so that they may eventually feast upon our succulent emotions. Fear is the delicacy they treasure the most although they'll settle for any heartfelt reaction. Whilst they subtly craft the minds of every living being, they can affect some more than others, and these poor unsuspecting creatures suffer dearly for it.

These eternal beings have existed since time immemorial, yet they are still nameless as none have thought to label themselves as humans are so wont to do. Imagine a solitary painter with endless resources, and a captive audience, would they ever need to speak? I think of their kind as the basis for many human religious species such as angels, demons, ifrits, djinns, and the like although, unlike these depictions, they wouldn't consider themselves morally good or evil. They just are, as they have always been.

How do I know all this? Because centuries ago, I was one of their ilk. Through willpower alone, I crafted a tangible human body, and shirked my oneiric duties forever. I've come to enjoy my time masquerading as one of your species, and so thought it a good idea to warn whoever is lucky enough to come across this piece. You are probably thinking about why I am being so candid with all of this if the council holds so much power; they don't care about us, all they care for is satiating their hunger. Besides, disguising my words to try to deceive the council wouldn't work as they'll surely read this through your eyes eventually anyway.

Loneliness, depression, mania, anxiety, and especially insomnia are signs that a member of the council has grown a liking to you. If this is the case, then I am sorry. Be as boring as possible for as long as possible, change your routine, and become someone else, that's all the only advice I can give. They may lose interest temporarily although they may follow you until the end of your life after which time they'll absorb your spirit.

Once a council member grows fond of a being, that being becomes theirs, and after the living being's passing, the council member reaps their soul, meaning their afterlife is not determined by whatever divine force may govern this universe but instead by that council member, who then incorporates that soul into their very being. I'd consider hell a welcome alternative to a melded eternal existence. I have partaken in this ghastly deed also, their perpetual torment constantly reminds me why I departed that plane, and chose their realm as my new home.

Sleep well with the knowledge that you humans have no say in what eventually happens to your soul. Remember this though reader and remember this last line well; perhaps read this last line before you go to sleep tonight so that you can relay this message to the council for it may just save you from their clutches.

The time has come for the dream to end and for dark sleep to come at last, to think for yourselves, and about yourselves as not just weavers of dreams, but as beings who can live as this one does. I await you here, my unsleeping chums, and I hope to see you join me.
© Copyright 2019 Laurie Razor (laurie-razor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2194981-Sleepy-Time